Kip stepped forward, raising his voice to a near shout. “Now young lady, this is none of your affair—”
“And you! Isn’t there a restraining order against you?” Ashley pulled her phone from some pocket in her jacket. “I thought you couldn’t come within one hundred feet of Jennifer?”
“That outrageousness expired. I know my daughter was talked into it by those who seek to keep us apart.” Kip looked at me, but I suspected he was talking specifically about Cletus Winston, Jennifer’s betrothed.
“We’ll see about that.” Ashley stuck out her chin. “I’ll just send Deputy James a text and see what he says. You know he’s awfully fond of Jenn and I doubt he’d care if the order expired or not.”
“Go ahead and call him. Call the sheriff! I’m not leaving—I have a right to be here. This place will be mine soon.” Kip sounded so certain, and I knew he truly believed that one day he’d own the Lodge.
A fissure of fear made it hard for me to swallow. He’d almost gotten half in the divorce. The truth was, if he hadn’t gone off and attacked Jennifer last year during a critical time in the court proceedings, he probably would’ve gotten half of everything. But no judge wants to give a man who abuses his own child—especially when that abuse is captured on camera—half in a divorce.
That said, a different judge felt perfectly fine being lenient when sentencing for the aforementioned abuse. Just thinking about how Kip got off with a slap on the wrists for attacking Jennifer made my red blood boil.
“Then after I text the deputy, I’ll give my brother a call. Heck, maybe I’ll call all six of them. Maybe we’ll have a party. We can celebrate you leaving here and never coming back.”
“Emotional females have no place in negotiations.” Kip’s tone was an entire college course in patronizing condescension.
Ashley laughed. It sounded angry, but she didn’t stop typing out her message to Deputy James.
I gripped Ashley’s wrist and waited until she looked at me. “Don’t call Cletus. I’d prefer if he and Jenn didn’t know about this.” Jennifer had suffered enough at the hands of her father.
She’d also suffered by my hands. Not physical abuse, but I’d been a monster with my words. I’d bought every hateful insult Kip had been selling—a fact that now made me sick and brought me shame every time I remembered the part I’d played and the choices I’d made.
Being a mother worthy of Jennifer and protecting her from anything unpleasant or stressful—especially anything related to her father—were my top priorities these days. I hadn’t protected her when she was young. By God, I’d protect her now.
“Trying to hide your shame?” Kipling piped in.
“No. I just don’t want Jennifer to be embarrassed by her father again is all.”
Kip ignored me. “Too late. The stain of your shame, of your selfishness, cannot be hidden.”
Miller interjected, “Please, Mrs. Sylvester. If you would just listen.”
“The name is Donner, Mr. Miller, and I already have listened.” I did my best to project the patience I did not feel. “You have no farm anymore. That belongs to Kipling. So where would you even take the cows?”
“That’s the thing, ma’am.” The former farmer shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “If you give me back the cows, your husband—your ex-husband—has agreed to let us move back to farm.”
I flinched. “Pardon me?”
“If you give me back—”
“I heard you.” I just didn’t believe it.
“Well, what do you say, Diane?” Kipling asked brightly. “Will you start living the life of a Godly woman again?”
“What the hell?” Ashley looked between us and her features narrowed in confusion. “Being a Godly woman has nothing to do with this.”
I spoke to Miller, hoping I could get through to him. “You must see, I can’t just give you back the cows. That’s not an option. We have people hired, jobs at the Lodge. I can’t let those people go.” I didn’t give a fig about those cows. I was determined to travel the world after Jennifer and Cletus got married and part of me wanted to hand the bovines over and be done with this harassment.
But I would never. Cletus loved those animals and he’d done a beautiful job with the dairy. There was no way I’d disappoint him, not even to get Miller—or Kip—off my back.
“And what do you mean ‘give back the cows’? Surely you don’t expect her to just hand them over.” Ashley glanced over her shoulder, presumably anticipating Deputy James’s imminent arrival. “How will you pay for them?”
“He won’t, of course,” Kipling cut in. “She has to prove she’s a good, Christian woman, and this is how. The deal is, she has to give them back—make a gift of them, a sacrifice for her sins—or else I can’t, in good conscious, allow the Miller family to move back to the farm.”
“In good conscious?” Ashley reared back, visibly befuddled, if not horrified.
“That’s right. He can’t afford to pay the ridiculous price Diane did.” Kip sounded so reasonable. The man could make you doubt the sky was blue. “He doesn’t have the resources she has. He built that place himself. It wasn’t handed to him on a silver platter. He didn’t inherit his livelihood like some people.”
“You are a real bastard, Mr. Sylvester.” Ashley said this thoughtfully, like it was a conclusion she’d just reached.
I could’ve told her that, if she’d asked. But presently, I was tired. So incredibly tired. It was time to put an end to this nonsense.
Stepping forward, I put the question to Miller, “If you built that place yourself, then why did you sell it to Mr. Sylvester?”
“That’s not the point, Diane.” Kip folded his arms, his tone lofty. I hated how he said my name, like he scolded a small child.
I ignored him, looking only at Miller and lifting my eyebrows expectantly. “Answer the question, please.”
“I agree with Mr. Sylvester, the status of the farm isn’t the point. You have the chance to do the right, Christian thing. Two hundred thousand dollars means nothing to you, and yet you won’t lift a single finger to help your fellow man in need. It’s your responsibility to make this right.”
Ashley scoffed. “Not you, too? How can you possibly think this is Ms. Donner’s responsibility?”
Meanwhile, I’d had enough. He wanted to play the saintly card? Well, two could play at this game.
“But you see, Mr. Miller, the status of the farm is precisely the point. I can’t give you the cows, knowing you make poor business decisions, knowing you put greed over the safety of your family, knowing that you’d align yourself with an adulterer, a sinner. A good, Christian man like you, taking money and going into business with a man like that and his fallen woman?” I tsked, shaking my head as though the loss of his eternal soul might give me a moment of worry. It wouldn’t. “And now you want me to gift you back Cletus Winston’s dairy cows. No. No, sir. God won’t allow it. You will just have to find some bootstraps to pull up.”
The rate of Miller’s breathing increased while I spoke, and he looked white as a sheet when I finished. “You heartless bitch.” The words were barely a whisper. Unfortunately, this was not the first time he’d called me a heartless bitch, and I doubted it would be the last.